Househusband Reborn
by fire-emblem-girl
Summary: Au. Daily life of Yamamoto and Gokudera as a married couple. Various pairings, all yaoi or yuri. Kinda ooc, wrote this randomly on a whim. Multi-chapter


Househusband Reborn!

"Oi, Yamamoto."

He hung up his coat in the hall, kicked off his shoes and padded to the kitchen. There were a few pots on the stove and the rice cooker sat on the counter. The kitchen took up a quarter of the guest house they currently lived in. The décor was strictly traditional Japanese-light wood, shoji and a roof that leaked like a mother when it rained. _I thought I told that bastard to call someone to fix that._ His briefcase was deposited on the dining table so he could fish his cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He draped the black suit coat over the back of one of the other three chairs and lit up. Gokudera took a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke linger in his mouth for a moment before expelling it in a slow, deliberate stream of grey. From his seat he could see the baseball idiot pinning laundry to the white line with a grin on his face-he didn't know if the other guy had seen him or not. The silver haired man didn't move from the kitchen yet. After work he needed at least half an hour alone in the quiet to calm down. Not that he was normally very calm anyway but if the dumbass came around bothering him now there would be blows exchanged. And not sex either. At least dinner was on and he could take it easy until food was ready. His hair had fallen from its signature-rather, stolen-octopus shape sometime during the day and now lay mostly straight against his head. He let his eyes slip close to further appreciate the silence when the phone rang. Hayato had barely risen from the chair when it stopped. Outside Yamamoto held a cordless to his ear, scratching his head with that familiar sheepish smile. _Who the hell calls at this time? Must be for him. _Why the person hadn't called during the work day he didn't know. And he didn't intend to ask though the baseball freak would probably tell him anyway.

"Hayato. You must've gotten lucky to get off work so early! How was your day?"

He gave a non-committal grunt then went back to closing his eyes.

In a second he felt lips on his forehead, "you've got a headache huh?"

"What d'you think baseball freak?!"

"Okay okay, dinner's almost ready so just endure it until then."

"Yeah."

Working at his father's shop hadn't gone to waste-a single mouthful of Takeshi's food made some of the tension in his shoulders ease up and the pain in his head fade slightly. A sigh fell from his lips as the black haired man handed over a second helping.

"You know who I saw at the supermarket today?"

He shook his head to keep himself from just answering with his mouth full. All of those etiquette lessons to make him more 'presentable' to his father's family as a child apparently had gone mostly to waste.

"Tsuna. You know, he's looking good. Must be nice to marry into money ha ha."

"Mmph."

Yamamoto cocked his head, an eyebrow raised, "you never did get over that did you."

"Don't say stupid things. I'm going to start a bath."

"Alright."

One of the ringed hands slid through the steel coloured hair-_Dammit, he's right…That's done. _From the bathroom he could see the main house-Yamamoto Sr.'s and beyond that the rest of the Namimori area. Sawada Tsunayoshi's home was tucked in between two smaller houses. Of course he'd married into money so he _could_ afford to have something bigger but had chosen instead to live in his parents' old place. 'For the memories…' he'd told Gokudera with a small smile. _That's bullshit. I would never live in anyone's old house!_ The idea of taking over a previous generation's home made his skin crawl-living where they'd lived, breathing where they'd breathed, walking where they'd walked and all the rest. More than anything it was the chains of the past that he wanted to escape. He let himself sink into the hot water up until his chin hoping it would relieve the rest of the pressure on his eyes and shoulders. Dishes clanking told him that Yamamoto had started cleaning up the remnants of dinner. _Shit. _He rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. _Dammit dammit dammit._

Still thoroughly overheated from the bath he didn't bother moving from the bed when the other inhabitant of the house entered the bedroom.

"Hey, Hayato."

"Mm."

"You need anything?"

"No. Stop hovering."

"Ah. Sorry. Just…you know…" a hand rubbed his back slowly then worked its way up to kneading the muscles of his back with both.

His breath caught in his throat as the massaging palms and knuckles found a particularly tight knot of flesh. It left his lungs as a harsh gasp when yet another trouble spot was located with the calloused fingers. Now Takeshi straddled his butt and one of the hands left to rummage around in the bedside table.

"Fu…Takeshi you…"

"Hurts right? Dad always says it's a sign of bad posture if you've got so many knots in your back."

His body twitched in response to the cold scented oil being spread over the surface of his skin. Lavender if his nose still worked properly. The light haired man moaned-it was starting to be less painful and more a relaxing experience. Yamamoto just chuckled in response.

"AH! Fucker!"

"Ha ha, it's because you tensed up again," the black haired guy dug the heels of his palms into the gasping body beneath him and moved all the way up to the shoulder.

"Ta-Takeshi," the voice came out in a pleading tone; sputtering at first then extending into an erotic, breathy whisper.

"Mm?"

"Nnn, don't…you dare stop."

"I've gotta sometime. Otherwise the laundry'll get caught in the rain!"

"Idiot…"

"Ha ha you look like you're made out of udon."

Hayato didn't say anything else. _What a clueless…_ His eyes slipped closed and he found himself lightly dozing despite not being that tired-or so he thought. When the hands stopped he sighed with contentment. Lips pressed to the back of his neck.

"You get worked up to much Hayato."

"Yeah…"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go get the laundry before it rains, okay? Be right back."

_Shit…Where'd he learn that from?_ He didn't want to move from fear that the second he did the feeling of relaxation would fade from his body. All he wanted to do was lay here and revel in the sensation of having no tension in his neck or shoulders. His headache had gone away.

The phone rang again but cut off after one ring. Yamamoto's voice lurked just beyond his range of hearing, a muffled sound. Then it stopped to be replaced by whistling that got louder until the door opened.

"That was Reborn. I told him you were asleep, is that okay?"

"What did he want?"

"I didn't ask. It's probably nothing! You know…that foreign movie is on, you wanna watch with me?"

"Mm. I'll be down in a minute."

_How many times is he going to watch it? _But it made the baseball freak stare at the screen like he'd witnessed a miracle-he thought it was cute even if he wouldn't admit that to anyone but himself. That was the only reason he actually got up and pulled on a pair of track pants and a t-shirt. Takeshi had already placed a bowl of popcorn on the kotatsu and had seated himself on the side closest to the TV. Gokudera sat next to him, but not too close because it annoyed him to see couples glued to each other's sides like their very life depended on each other's existence.

"Do you think you could take a week off work?"

"No."

"Oh. Ah…well…I've got to go out of town so I won't be able to-"

"I can cook my own food baseball freak," he rolled his eyes.

"You know how to work the washing machine right? And where all the cleaning supplies are?"

Hayato just stared, frowning like he was pissed off.

"Just making sure!"

"It's fine."

"Mm. Alright," the other man turned his attention to the opening credits.

_Why does he sound depressed? _ He rested his chin in his hand-sure, this movie was good. But not for the 10th time. Yamamoto let the palm not reaching into the popcorn bowl rest on his partner's thigh. It was a familiar gesture. One that had been often used back at Namimori High when being outwardly intimate was impossible or too embarrassing. But just that simple touch could be easily concealed behind tables or chairs-and it didn't make Hayato turn into a tomato anymore. It didn't require reciprocal action. _Especially since baseball freak is watching the damn movie so intently. _

~~**~~

"Takeshi," he murmured in the other man's ear. The idiot had fallen asleep sometime half way through the film, back hunched and leaning forward on the kotatsu top. Even in sleep the carefree guy wore a smile. For a couple minutes he contented himself with studying Yamamoto's face, trailing a finger lazily up the tanned arm and examining the rough fingers. Compared to his own mostly smooth flesh Takeshi was like a pumice stone.

"Ss…wrong?"

"Nothing baseball freak. The movie's over." _Finally._

"Mmph…? Time's it?"

He rolled his eyes with a small smile and helped him up. They mostly stumbled upstairs to bed, the black haired man being more than a little bit clumsy when he'd just woken up. Gokudera let him drop onto the bed before going and brushing his teeth. When he returned Takeshi had already gone back to sleep without any blankets on. A hand went to his forehead. _What kind of idiot just sleeps in his clothes…_ Something caught his eye as he moved to yank the shirt and pants off the other man's back and pull the covers over him. _A letter? Since when does he get mail?_ He picked it up, flipped it over and scanned the return address. _…So that's what he's going away for…_

End of Chapterrrrrrrr

I don't know why I wrote this. Other than I read a doujin of Tsuna and Spanner being married. :'D Tsuna was a housewife. And so I was like "lol, I wanna write a 8059 fanfiction like that". Except it's all emo instead of funny ^^;;; Next chapter: where is 80 going? What further drama will occur?! Who is married to who and why am I choosing to continue this?


End file.
